The Last Treasure
by arushofbloodtothehead
Summary: AU. Set in 12th century Bulgaria, Lady Katerina and her family harbor a dangerous secret that could lead to disaster if discovered. Elijah and Niklaus Mikaelson, known Viking warlords, scour the lands for the last piece of an ancient ritual: the moonstone. Rumored to possess it, Katerina is kidnapped in the hopes of gaining a ransom, and the last piece falls into place. Kalijah.
1. Chapter 1

One thought, that's all it took.

Katerina's hands fell slack from the horse's reins as she looked down upon the keep where her family lived. The rolling green hills, the robust granaries, and sweet breeze that made Bulgaria home called down to her. She stood up on one of the higher hills in the area where the stables were kept. She frequented the place often, if only to get away from her cloying family for a moment. Her father never liked when she got lost in her own thoughts, thoughts usually too despicable or outrageous to share. She didn't know where these thoughts came from, but if she did not watch herself, one thought turned to another, and soon, she escaped to an entirely new world where things were different. No parents, no village life. Sometimes she imagined terrible things, beasts that roamed and drank the blood of others to sustain themselves. She'd told her friends about them, but where they all became frightened, Katerina felt a kinship with the idea. The closeness she felt to that reality was what frightened her, and she'd quickly learned that she could not speak of it to others, lest she become another Cassandra, doomed to voice the future yet have nobody believe her.

It was in that moment, yet again, that she had allowed herself to become enveloped in yet another revelation so deeply that she hadn't heard the oncoming hordes. It wasn't until the first bloody scream rang out in the peaceful air that Katerina snapped from her reverie, her limp hand curling into a fist on the horse's reins once again. Her eyes fixated on the land beneath the keep, where it was swarmed with men, shouting, whooping and yielding weapons. They cut down many in their paths, helpless villagers who had happened to be passing. Katerina felt fear grip her heart, the shock of the oncoming threat enough to freeze her in her place. Her gaze darted to the keep, a formidable mansion built on the good fortune of the Petrovas, and felt another stab of fear spear her heart. Her parents. The hordes had come pillaging. Her instincts roared into action, and she yanked the reins taut, slipping her foot into the makeshift saddle to straddle the horse. The beast whinnied in surprise, and Katerina yelped as it shot down towards the keep. She quickly regained control of the animal and spurred it forward.

It wasn't long before she was lost in the chaos that ensued. Villagers screamed and ran for cover as the oncoming teams of men sacked and raided, cutting down anybody in their path. She saw a group burst into a hut, the screams of the family ringing in her ears as she galloped closer towards the gate. She'd outrun most of the horde for now; they seemed to be amusing themselves with terrorizing the villagers and had yet to turn their eyes towards the prize: the Petrova fortune. The two guards posted at the gate stood steadily at their positions, but Katerina could see fear in their eyes as she neared them. _But why? The horde was still far enough away-_

Then she realized that their straightened forms and alertness were not tributes of respect to her status - they were immediate panic. Katerina glanced behind herself in time to see that a group of them were gaining on her, with half on horseback. She kicked the horse into action, her skirts flurrying around her and her brown curls bouncing against her back as she rode the horse towards safety. But would it be safety?

White-hot panic flared in her as she spotted riders on either side of her, closing in on her. With only a few feet left, she took her chance and slid from the horse, barreling towards the iron gates with as much speed as she could muster. Her satin shoes slipped in the grass, and her skirts weighed her down, but the guards opened the gate for her and she slipped in between them just as the riders descended upon the keep. She had no time to look behind her to discover the fate of the two guards, she simply kept running. Her footwork was much improved on the stone steps, but none of it seemed like enough.

In fact, she had been running so hard that she hadn't even noticed a man standing in the threshold of her home. A man that certainly was not her father. She slowed her movements involuntarily; her body was screaming at her to keep running. Brown eyes narrowing, she lifted her chin defiantly as she realized the blonde man in front of her was one of them. A viking. And he was in her home. Where were her parents?

Coming to a standstill in front of him, her heart pounding in her ears, she blinked and realized she had missed what he'd said. All she could think about was what sort of carnage lay within her own home. An amused smile told her that he'd been expecting this reaction, and was acting graciously to repeat himself - as though he'd been doing her a favor. Anger burned within her like a fire.

"Zdraveĭte, Dama Petrova. My name is Niklaus."

The man stood with his hands behind his back, exuding a large enough presence that Katerina did not take one step closer, yet curiosity and fear itched at her. It made it difficult to concentrate on anything but getting inside. "I know you. What are you doing here?" The Viking warlord Niklaus and his lapdog of a general, his brother, were known for pillaging the coastlines, looking for treasure. Though she had never expected the brothers to cross the Mediterranean Sea, or set their sights upon Bulgaria. And why her family?

Niklaus chuckled quietly, though his smile did not reach his eyes. Katerina had never seen a man look so cold, yet so bemused before. She could hear the ongoing assault on her land behind her, yet she could do little but stand trapped in the courtyard. "Let me aside." She demanded, moving to step around the man. Niklaus sidestepped her with an inhumanly quick movement, which left Katerina to wonder if she'd grown disoriented from the shock. "I'm here for the moonstone."

Taking a half-step forward, she narrowed her eyes at the man and scoffed, then finally barreled her way through the threshold of the door. Inside lay carnage. Pools of blood marked where bodies lied still, servants and guards alike torn apart… by a single man. Though it seemed as though everybody in the house was dead, she saw no Vikings other than the one who stood so arrogantly in her home. As she came upon more and more corpses, panic and fear blossomed in her chest so greatly that she could hardly make it up the stairs. The entire first floor lay slaughtered.

"Mama!" She shouted, balancing herself against the walls as she stopped at every doorway. "Papa!" No voices came, and she feared the worst. Each room she passed was either empty or had already been descended upon. There was not a living soul in the keep. The chill of death threatened to overtake her senses as she ran towards the end of the hallway, her footsteps echoing in the stone hallways. The sun was beginning to set, and no candles were lit. The oncoming gloom seemed more than appropriate, for Katerina feared she would never again see the light herself. Finally coming to the west wing, the location of her parents' chambers, she sped forward to slam herself against the door, only to be stopped in her tracks by a pair of hands.

"No!" Katerina screamed, alternating between reaching forward to grab the door handle and attempting to kick back whoever had a grip on her. His hands were like stone, and she could not pull towards the door no matter how hard she tried. "Let go of me! Mama!" Clawing at anything that resembled human skin, she fought without ever once looking back at her attacker.

To her despair, she found herself being dragged away from the door, with no more certainty of her parents' fate than she was before. Screaming had no effect, struggling had no effect. Sobs began to choke her words, and the door only got farther away from her. She finally turned to look at her attacker, expecting to see Niklaus with his cold smile. Instead, she saw another faceless Viking man, offering no information as to where he was taking her. As his hands dragged her away, his arm eventually coming to loop across her limp torso, she only knew for certain that she would never set eyes on that door again.


	2. Chapter 2

Niklaus and Elijah Mikaelson were the most notorious Viking warlords the world had ever seen. They sacked, pillaged and plundered where they pleased, leaving behind little identifying structures of the cities that once were. Though England had rebuked them many times, the Vikings were a powerful force to be reckoned with, and as an army, often had little regard for wellbeing that was not their own. Katerina saw that first-hand. As she had been pulled from the keep, alternating between kicking and screaming and simply going limp from shock, she stared at every single lifeless body in front of her as she was carted by. She knew these people, had lived with them, played with them as a child. She tried not to picture her parents in a similar state, lifeless eyes staring up into the oblivion as their hearts quickened in their final moments, begging to pump blood beyond the stab wounds. Shutting her eyes tight, she saw them clearly, lying on the floor, their hair and clothing stained from the pools of their own blood. And yet, perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps they were alive, hidden in the keep. The small ray of hope was soon crushed as she remembered how Niklaus had stood in the threshold of the house, the likewise guards standing outside the gate as though nothing had happened. They'd all but sealed her parents' fate, and now she could never be certain of it. Even if news of their deaths had eventually reached her, she would never feel the true pain she needed to grieve because her mind would forever play tricks on her.

In this way, Niklaus cursed her, just as he'd cursed her land. The blood stained the green grass, making the blades sticky and dark. The man's grip on her wrist was rough, and he kept yanking her along if she began to dig her heels in. As they walked through the fields, Katerina's mind in a frenzy as she battled between the visions of her parents and possible escape routes, she realized that she did not know why she was still alive. There was no sense in killing everybody on the land, including its lord and lady, yet leave the daughter alive. Panic rose up inside her. What could they possibly want of her? She feared the worst, and yet, as she ceased fighting back, she gained a sense of firm calmness. Her tears were silent, and she kept her gaze defiant. No Dane would take her dignity from her, not if she could help it.

The group escorting Katerina was made up of six men. Evidently, they'd decided that they would need up to four extra reinforcements should she resume her kicking spree, which gave Katerina some self-satisfaction. The man holding her was a tall, bearded blonde man and his eyes were flat with disdain, as though the entire event had been a childish waste of time. The others she could not see, as they walked in front of her, but they were all huge, brutish men. Katerina suddenly felt very aware of her own size, though she did comfort herself with the idea that she had her spare dagger tucked into her skirts. It wouldn't be much help, certainly not against the axes and longswords these men wielded, but even slitting one's man neck would be a triumph.

As they trod on through the fields, practically forcing Katerina to examine the wide-spread massacre they'd induced, she realized she could see a camp not a few miles away. How had they been so close, and yet nobody had brought word? They'd been walking for the better part of a few hours, but it would've taken a quarter of that by horseback; the farmers in these parts, loyal to her family had had no excuse. Katerina ground her teeth. More people to blame.

"Where are you taking me?" She gave a yank on the man's grip on her, now replaced by a makeshift rope that one of the men had supplied, to punctuate her question. The man's answering gesture was that of a tug so sudden and so strong that Katerina tripped and nearly fell. The men laughed. "Cattle don't speak."

She huffed, feeling anger and humiliation burn up inside of her. One of the men glanced back at her, his gaze falling appreciatively down to the neckline and bodice of her dress. "Cute cattle, though." Another of the men shoved the one who spoke. "You want her? Don't come crying to me after Lord cuts your manhood off." The men jeered at each other, and Katerina felt disgusted. What did these brutes want by attacking her family land? They were wealthy, and well-to-do, but they had nothing of significance to an entire Viking band. Perhaps it was just a routine practice run, she thought dismally.

 _Wait. He said Lord._

Did that mean she was going to see Niklaus? Katerina felt herself shudder at the thought. Though both brothers were cold and cruel, Niklaus was known for being particularly unstable. She'd heard stories of the unimaginable ways the lord executed traitors and disobedient soldiers. His brother, Elijah, was Niklaus's lap dog and general of his armies. Though Niklaus was the one who gave the order, it was Elijah who made it happen. It was arguable that Elijah was the cruelest of either, seeing to and witnessing the death of thousands of men. What would such men want with her?

"Don't look so worried," The man holding her rope gave a laugh, tugging it as though he wanted to see her trip again. She looked down at her satin slippers, muddied and dirtied from the walking. She saw the stitching begin to fall apart from the uneven terrain and rough rocks they'd passed over. The group hadn't even been given a horse. Perhaps they were in no rush at all to return to camp. "He'll use you for a fortnight or two, then tire of you. There's only two reasons that you're alive at all: your pretty face, and your pretty sheath. Keep him happy, and you won't end up a pretty corpse." Katerina bristled at the comments, hardening her stare and forcing her feet to walk one after the other despite the aching pain. "Though I bet this one would still fuck a corpse." One of the men was punched in the shoulder and laughter rang out among the group. "You'll see." She whispered, curling her bound hands into fists. "Better you die than I."

* * *

It was clear which tent belonged to the commanders of the army, as it was the largest she'd ever seen. Towering far into the sky, and almost as wide as the keep, she couldn't help but tilt her head back in awe. The camp was otherwise modest, with a few tents circling the main one, the grass trodden down and browned from where the soldiers walked. Glancing over her shoulder, she realized she could no longer see the keep, nor really distinguishing marks. For all she knew, the attack was a random one, and she wasn't sure if that made her feel better or worse. Stepping into the camp was far worse than she could've ever expected, with groups of beast-like men shouting, fighting and, well… fucking. Katerina averted her eyes as she spotted a couple sprawled out onto the mud and looked back towards the tent they were heading for. The Vikings were obviously primeval, barbaric savages and there she was, a slip of a girl in a dark green silk dress.

"Move it!" She felt the jut of a man's palm on her back as she was pushed forward, and managed to restrain herself from speaking out. These men wouldn't blink twice about killing a man, why would they care about her?

Two guards stood posted at the entrance of the tent; these two men looked much more authoritative than her own guards, but the fear was unmistakable. Niklaus apparently had an enormously threatening reach. That did not bode well for her. Step after step in the mud, her shoes were nearly completely disintegrated at this point. Satin slippers were not meant for treks across the countryside that was for certain. The edges of her dress were likewise stained and even ragged in one spot where she'd caught it on a shrub and had no choice but to rip it free. The constricting corset hugging her ribs was also doing her no favors after the expedition she'd just had. Pushing her curls back from her face, she attempted to regain a sense of control, one that was immediately tarnished as the man behind her gave her another push through the door.

She fell this time, letting out an involuntary yelp as she trod on her dress and landed on her knees. A dull ache flowed through her muddied knee after having landed on such hard, packed earth. Lifting her head to assess the scene, she quickly found that the tent was emptier than she'd expected, save for perhaps fifteen men. That was her first instinct. Her second was that the tent was much more divided, as opposed to it being one giant room. The main area, acting as a foyer, she supposed – though she doubted Vikings had such civilities – she could see that there were other entrances, even hallways around the tent. Plenty of places to run. Gathering herself to her feet, she hissed in frustration as she wrapped the edge of her skirts around her fist and pulled them to the side, allowing her to walk somewhat freely. _Modesty be damned._

"Lord," The man behind her bowed. "The Lady Petrova." Katerina looked up, but she couldn't have prepared herself to see the man again. Wearing the same smug, self-satisfied smile that she decided was consistent with the reports of his madness, he offered a fluid half-bow that she interpreted as more mocking than respectful. Giving an ironic half-curtsey herself, she dropped her stained skirts to the floor as Niklaus came closer. Eyes never wavering from her own, he stepped forward until he was nearly touching noses with her. She narrowed her eyes, though it seemed that only amused him more. He was a handsome man, that she couldn't deny, but whenever she looked at him, she saw bloodshed and death, and no amount of beauty could hide it. "I see the rumours of your beauty were not falsehoods, though I daresay you outshine them greatly." Katerina dropped her eyes, unable to control the discomfort that began to curl up in her throat. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she cleared her throat and lifted her eyes once more. "Thank you, my lord. I came here voluntarily upon your gracious request," _If he is mad, then flattery will surely do some good_. "But I should like to know why I am here."

"We have plenty of time to discuss such matters. Come." Niklaus gestured towards yet another doorway to his left. Pausing for a moment, she stepped forward and slipped through the canvas-like flaps to reveal a second, smaller room. A sitting room. Large chairs and tables were set up, with trays of alcohol perched on nearly every flat surface. Despite the drudgery outside, the room seemed clean and comfortable. Katerina couldn't help but feel more at ease. _Which is exactly what he wants,_ she decided, unable but to notice the cot in the corner of the room. As Niklaus entered the room as well, he busied himself with uncorking one of the bottles, and Katerina took the opportunity to reach down and brush the edge of the blade tucked into her skirts against the material, sewn into a hidden pocket. If she did die then, she would not die without a fight.

"Please." Niklaus gestured to one of the simply made chairs, and Katerina sat, feeling immediate relief as her weight was taken off her feet. The skirts were beginning to drag her down.

"What do you want, Lord? What about my parents?" The man was intimidating, to say the least, yet she couldn't help but demand answers. Once again pegging her with a dark stare, he seemed to chuckle low in his throat, an unsettling noise. "I want a great many things, Lady. Beauty, wealth… immortality." Katerina frowned. "My lord?"

"Yes, Lady, I wish to possess that which no man has ever achieved. I wish to live beyond my time, beyond my kin's time… for eternity." _He's completely lost it now,_ Katerina thought, _I'm in the clutches of a madman!_

He must've seen her confusion, despite her attempts to mask it as best she could. If he wanted something, perhaps she could bargain for it and somehow leave this place alive. The thought of where she would even go was another matter, the first was leaving with all pieces intact. Holding a goblet, he took a drink from it and sighed, as though the wine itself were causing these moral dilemmas. Immortality? What could that ever have to do with her?

Only a few feet away from her, he set the goblet down and began to walk towards her. Her mother's teachings, as well as the primal instinct of fear, began to kick in as she smoothed down her skirt unconsciously, as though she were trying to look smaller. But Katerina's back straightened, and she watched the man stalk forward with the elegant moves of a wolf. She could only brace herself as he'd lean back on his haunches before pouncing with his great teeth. She swallowed, feeling the dryness in her throat.

His hand reached to touch her neck, warm fingertips tracing along the fine blue veins hidden underneath olive skin, starting at her collarbone and moving up to the gentle line of her jaw. Katerina held her breath as Niklaus stared down at her, his eyes still hard, yet his touch as light as a feather. The man was wholly unpredictable.

"Give it to me." He whispered. Katerina turned her head to look at him. "What?"

In an instant, his touch became savage. Grabbing her jaw with his fingers, nails digging in her skin, he pulled her closer, blue eyes blazing and pink lips trembling before he spoke again.

"The moonstone, Katerina… I know you have it."


	3. Chapter 3

His nails dug into her skin, leaving crescent shaped marks along her jawbone. Arms pushing outwards in front of her, she attempted to shove him away as best she could, but it was like pushing a statue. Was she really so weak? His hand, palm underneath her chin with his fingers situated at the bottom of her cheeks, jerked upwards. Despite his rash movements, his eyes remained steady as he stared down at her, his light brown eyes flickering with hatred. "I don't-"

Curling her fingers around his own, she ripped his hand away from her, chest heaving with the effort. If it took that much strength to fight his hand away, she was terrified for what fate had in store for her. "I don't have any sort of moonstone!"

His eyes flashed, but his hand didn't return to her face. Her own eyes adopted a flat stare, narrowing at his as he seemed to assess the situation, and whether killing her outright would be a good idea. Katerina held her breath. He was terrifying when calm, but what was he like when he was angry? She glanced over at a guard standing by the canvas doorway, but he stared ahead and offered no assistance. Evidently, this was the sort of thing that happened often.

Niklaus stepped away from her, and she released a breath of relief, her fists loosening from her skirts as he picked up his goblet again and took another swig. Setting it down gently, the metal clinking against the wooden table, he let out a dry laugh. "You're lying to me." Katerina's brow furrowed as she processed his words. Were these the remarks of a mad man? "You have the wrong person, my Lord. I know nothing of any moonstone." Niklaus's eyes lifted from his goblet to her, and he smirked, the emotion, this time, reaching his eyes. "Lady Katerina Petrova, daughter to Lidya and Ivan Petrov. An only child."

Katerina couldn't help but scoff. "You murdered them, I suppose the least you could do was ask for their names." Niklaus seemed to share her dark sense of humor, because he chuckled. "No, love. As much fun as it is, I prefer executing large scale massacres when I have a plan involved." Katerina was beginning to feel weakness creep up on her, her knees bending and her head swaying, a result of the shock she'd been enduring, but she stood as still as she could. She now additionally had to convince an insane Viking warlord that she was not the target of his search. Given how far they'd likely traveled, she could imagine his frustration when met with a dead end. However, that had not merited the death of her village. "I am sorry to disappoint you, my Lord, and even more sorry to know that my people and my parents died because of a simple case of mistaken identity. I should like to return to my keep now, and have your word that you will never return."

"My sympathies, my Lady, but I'm afraid this game can go on no further." His smile suddenly disappeared, and his eyes bore into hers. She felt a chill slip up her spine. "The moonstone. Hand it over."

"My Lord, I don't know how else to tell you this." Something dropped in Niklaus, she could tell. His back straightened, but his shoulders fell, as though this was something he hadn't been expecting. Katerina felt vexation colour her words as she spoke. "If I had any sort of moonstone – I don't even know what a moonstone is! – I'd gladly hand it over if it meant you leaving my land. Do you now understand?" His expression had gone completely blank, and she felt frustration rise up in her again. Her stomach was empty, her feet ached, and she had no way of reasoning with the man. Her fingers brushed against her soft green skirts, feeling the edge of the blade tucked into the little pocket, her eyes intent on him as he began to stalk forward again.

"Well, then… I suppose I've made an error in judgement." Katerina couldn't help but blink blankly, shaken by how nonchalant his admittance was. Anger boiled her words before she could think to choose them carefully. "An error! You killed them all for _nothing_!" Niklaus shrugged a broad shoulder. "When you think about it," He reasoned. "It really is more your fault than my own. Had you had the moonstone, at least you could have said your people died for a good cause. It's not very well my fault you don't have it, is it?"

Katerina's hand snaked forward and suddenly collided with Niklaus's cheek. He turned his head ever so slightly to the side, tongue in cheek as he collected himself. She felt herself flushing with the adrenaline rush, the inability to see an end to her misfortunes finally causing her to snap.

"You… _bastard_!"

Niklaus's hand shot forward and gripped the top of her arm. She felt his strength instantaneously as he yanked her through the canvas doorway and into the main area of the tent, then outside. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as he pulled her through the camp, her feet struggling to maintain a grip on the muddy paths. Katerina didn't even bother to lift her skirts any longer – what was the point? There was no need to stand on ceremony any longer, Niklaus was clearly finished with her insolence. Katerina could only hope for a cleaner death than the ones she'd seen when she had been riding for the keep; some of the villagers had suffered gashes and wounds to the stomach or neck when the Danes descended, deep enough to be fatal, but shallow enough to prolong the dying for eternity.

 _Don't be an idiot! You need to get out of here!_

"Where-"She just as soon opened her mouth to demand what was happening when he'd finally stopped. For a moment, she'd thought that they'd circled around the camp back to the same tent, with the one they were standing outside of seemingly just as large as the last. However, upon closer inspection, she realized that this tent was more to the edge of the perimeter of the camp, and was at least half the size of Niklaus's, though still massive compared to the others. Niklaus turned to face her, satisfaction clear on his face. Her stomach twisted at that smile. "Perhaps you need some time to recover your memories, my Lady. I am nothing if not a patient man." Katerina resisted the urge to scoff. His voice was low, yet she heard every word he spoke over the bustling of the soldiers around them. Some glanced at her with a kind of pity, but she couldn't understand why. Surely they had exacted raids before, collected women as spoils of war… Whose tent was she about to enter?

"I will graciously allow you to stay in my camp until your memory returns to you, and I hope then that we can be of further use to each other. If nothing else, perhaps you can be persuaded with a little incentive that I am working on." His eyes seemed to light up at the thought. Katerina's arm was still in his tight grip. "Until then…" He turned to pull the tent flap open, and without warning, shoved her inside.

Katerina stepped through the tent none too graciously, courtesy of Niklaus, and, lifting her head, her curls falling around her face, she saw that the tent was identical in stature on the inside, yet there was an inherently different feeling to it. The tent seemed to have only two rooms to it, which would make either of them spacious judging by the outside. Both were undoubtedly filled with luxuries for an army camp, with satin pillows and warm furs, as well as books and candles and ink. Baskets of fruit punctuated every table, and maps were scattered across any flat surface she could see. There was a strange chaotic order to it all. Swords and their scabbards hung from a rack, with a few axes joining the array, glinting from the sunshine pouring through the tent opening. She saw no bed, but assumed that it must've been in the connecting tent. This tent was clearly lived-in. This was the tent of a war general.

"Brother!" Katerina scanned the tent and saw still life out of the corner of her eye. A man, sitting at a desk with a candle, pouring over some documents. "I've brought you a spoil of war." Katerina's jaw tensed as Niklaus's jovial words echoed through the canvas walls, and she saw the man stand from the desk and walk towards the pair. Without a moment to look upon the man's face, Katerina felt Niklaus's cold and unyielding hand collide with her back as he cruelly pushed her onto the ground. Aching knees colliding against hard, packed earth again, she grunted at the impact, the palm of her hands skidding across the mud. "I've lost a moonstone, and you've gained a whore."

The young woman started at the words being exchanged, though she did not have to lift her head to know who she was kneeling in front of. The man Niklaus called brother. Elijah Mikaelson. "I am not-!" Her words were quickly lost as Niklaus laughed, and continued on. "She seems to not be able to recall anything of the treasure, so I leave it to you to get some sense into her while I prepare for certain… arrangements. Enjoy yourself, brother. She'll warm your bed nicely."

Katerina froze. Her bones ached where they hit the ground, and she soon found herself questioning whether it was prudent for her to get up again at all. The brothers' words were soon lost to her, her own blood rushing in her ears as she felt true fear for the second time again. Niklaus Mikaelson was said to be the Devil incarnate, but Elijah Mikaelson was hell personified. As the commander of the entire army, he was the one that sanctioned all of the forces' barbaric attacks, and he supposedly did it with nothing less than a nod of his head. The brothers were a terrible curse upon the empire, and they had brought that destruction to her own lands.

Would he seal her death? Torture her for information? She couldn't help but glance idly at the swords that hung from the rack again, anxiety pressing down upon her chest. She'd die an unescapable death; tortured for information she didn't have and cursed for it. Her gaze flickered back to the dirt beneath her fingers. Her instincts told her to get up, to run for the weapons, but her rationale told her to stay put. These were no ordinary men she was dealing with. Curling her fingers into her palms, she pressed against the ground and lifted herself up enough to look directly up at Elijah Mikaelson.

Covered in only a grey tunic and black trousers, he maintained an immediate air of authority even when casually dressed. Though she was on the ground, she could tell he would tower over her, with soft brown hair that almost touched his shoulders. Broad shoulders, they were, coincidentally, ones that undoubtedly came with an immense measure of strength. The man hardly spared at glance towards her, and instead looked upon his brother as though he were expecting a delivery.

 _I suppose that makes me the delivery_ , she thought bitterly.

Katerina lifted herself to her feet once more, her usual instincts of dusting her gown off now dimmed as she studied the man before her. His eyes were cold, not unlike his brother's, but there was something different about his gaze as it fell upon her. She didn't feel the same measure of panic that she felt under Niklaus's probing eyes. However, like his brother, Elijah was a handsome man, and she felt traitorous to herself having even noticed.

"You cannot keep me here!" Neither brother turned to look at her, though she found Elijah's expression to be even more unreadable than his brother's. "I hope these arrangements will prove to be worthwhile." Elijah replied, his voice low and warm. Finally, his eyes reached hers.

Raising her chin defiantly, she hardened her stare in response, and, after studying her for a moment, the man soon turned to look back at his blonde counterpart. Niklaus smiled sinisterly. "They will be. So, I will leave you to it, brother. It seems like you've got your hands full."

"You decided not to partake?" Elijah's voice held a tone of amusement, and Katerina felt hatred swell up inside of her. Speaking about her as if she were not there, as though she were an object!

"Oh, I have my own hands full with the lovely Caroline… I find blondes to be much more enthusiastic company." With that, Niklaus and Elijah exchanged another glance, the former exuding the same sadistic glee that she'd witnessed in the threshold of her home, and he was gone.

Katerina dropped her gaze to her hands, noticing the dirt that had gotten caked underneath her fingernails. Silence filled the tent now that the kingpin himself had left, and she suddenly found herself unable to argue any longer. Her words would simply not be heard. When she lifted her head again, she saw that Elijah had returned to his desk and promptly resumed working. Another few seconds of silence passed, then she heard two quiet words.

"Come here." Dropping her hands to her sides, she realized what sort of predicament she had found herself in.

She was alone in a tent with Elijah Mikaelson.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for the support ^^ Just wanted to say a few things – though I am somewhat of an amateur historian in my spare time, the 11_ _th_ _-12_ _th_ _centuries are certainly not a specialty of mine. That being said, I'm writing this more for fun than accuracy but I promise I will do my best!_

 _Secondly, I'm hoping to combine both Katerina and Katherine within Katerina in this story, with her slowly developing both parts as the story progresses. I've always thought that Katherine lay dormant inside of Katerina, and that she was always capable of being both! That being said, please R &R and I hope you enjoy_

* * *

Ever since she could remember, she had been told to mind her place. Her actions were always too brash, her comments too unladylike, that she was always more than just a few etiquette lessons short of being a proper lady. Her place, she would garner, was being underfoot. Her father seemed eager to marry her off if it only meant that he would gain some additional lands or money, and it meant that she would become someone else's problem. How often can a girl be told to mind herself until the words lost all meaning, and the child still runs wild as ever? She'd excelled in almost every task she was given, but she had a habit of creating mischief if boredom had ever struck. Of course, with mundane activities such as sewing and reading, boredom was unavoidable. It wasn't as though her father didn't love her, but it was simply the way their society worked. Soon, it would be Katerina's husband telling her to mind her place, though she had always secretly hoped that if she did marry, by God, it would be a more open-minded man. Unfortunately, she was beginning to wonder if those existed at all.

Katerina had gotten better at sitting still as she became older, but something still never sat right with her about fitting into her place. That being said, she still didn't know her place – her mother would have reprimanded her for raising a hand against Niklaus, even if the man had sanctioned her death himself. She was the product of her time, the same way Katerina would be. But however well she managed to falsely blend into her spot in the world, she always made sure to leave a little wiggle room.

As she stood in Elijah's tent, just steps away from the threshold, she suddenly remembered these reprimands at the wills of her parents. She wasn't sure why. Perhaps the guilt was becoming so overwhelming that her memories had begun to get intrusive… or perhaps, it was the voices of her parents trying to keep her alive in her current situation. Shuffling her feet against the ground, she wringed her fingers together, thumb skidding across her middle finger where her ring usually was. There was a thin line of paler skin marking where it had once been. Katerina didn't know where the simple band had gone; she hadn't even realized it was missing until a few moments ago. Lost in the fields, it would likely never be found again. At least, not by her.

The ring was a simplistic band of metal, but it signified something that caused both nostalgia and shame to swell in her heart. _It wasn't love_ , she told herself. _Love does not end like that._ Perhaps it had been for the best that it was gone now. It probably would've been stolen from her at some point anyway, a nimble fingered Viking thief hoping to make a quick sale. As she rubbed her middlemost knuckle, she realized that she hadn't yet moved from her spot. Elijah's words still echoed in her mind, hanging unacknowledged in the pregnant pause.

He didn't seem to think she was capable of running, she realized, as she felt a gentle breeze slip through the threshold and brush against her skirts. He didn't seem all that concerned that she stood only steps away from the doorway, while he sat across the room behind a desk. The sun was beginning to set, and a neon orange light was peeking out from underneath the canvas folds, bathing her feet in light. She had been their captive for the better part of the day, and she still couldn't decide if this was all a terrible dream or not… Though it was beginning to feel very real the moment she took a step forward.

Tentatively placing one foot in front of the other, she maintained the same characteristic resiliency in her posture and in her gaze. Though she could only feel a virtual whirlwind of emotions inside of her, she dampened them in the face of her enemies. She may not have been taught that by her father directly, but she liked to think it would have come up at some point beyond the sewing. Perhaps this was the time to ignore some of those etiquette lessons after all.

One step preceded another, and she stood found herself standing in front of the desk where he worked, though he hadn't yet looked up from his duties. Ignoring his presence for a moment, just as he was doing to her, she studied the papers on the table and realized them all to be maps. Maps of the Byzantine empire, of the Roman Empire, of… her lands. She saw them, marked with a large, black 'X" just a few inches away from the capital. A few other places on other maps were similarly marked, and she had a feeling she knew what they all had in common. There was a small bit of writing just below the 'X', but before she could read it, Elijah's hand swooped over the maps and collected them into a small pile. The candle standing near his hand flickered from the rustling papers, and she looked at his face as the firelight danced over his features. He looked tired. She could feel his exhaustion emanating from him, and added it to her own. Standing on her own two feet suddenly felt like standing on the tips of two spears, and she had to remind herself not to show her discomfort… But God, was she tired. Tired of walking, of talking and of being afraid, Elijah Mikaelson was yet another threat that she had simply no energy to deal with tonight.

Blinking away her sleepiness, she suddenly realized that he'd spoken. His voice was so low and calm that she'd very nearly fallen asleep on her feet. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

His eyes looked up at her with that same twinge of amusement as earlier, but his demeanor remained business-like. "I asked if you had eaten." Elijah's face was bathed in the warm candlelight as the last rays of the sun began to disappear, and Katerina felt the telltale nighttime chill in the air. "No, I've been otherwise _occupied_."

 _Do not mock your benefactors, Katerina. Childishness is no trade for the generosity of a soul._

Katerina herself was taken aback by the thought in her head. It was as though her mother had spoken directly in her ear. Pressing her lips into a straight line for a moment, she shook her head again, feeling her curls bustle against her back. "I mean, no, my Lord. I haven't, regretfully."

Elijah's brow quirked, clearly amused by the way she'd caught herself. Katerina felt her rebellious nature beginning to peek through. With a graceful hand – for a Viking, he pushed one of the fruit bowls closer to the edge of the table where she stood. He also nodded towards a wooden chair that was pushed up against the wall, almost as though someone had knocked it over in a moment of anger and it had never returned to its place. She reached forward for one of the apples that sat in the bowl, the red skin shiny underneath her fingertips… and paused. "It's poisoned."

The same amused smile appeared on his lips as when Niklaus had been there. "Where would be the sense in that? I plan to make the most of your company, Lady Katerina." The innuendo lay bare in his words, but Katerina refused to bite. She grabbed the apple from the top of the pile and bit into it adamantly, while walking over to sit down in the chair. Her feet felt an instant relief, and the sweetness of the apple was only matched by the sweetness of having food in her stomach again. Elijah seemed to notice her relief because his smile lingered, but as his eyes fell upon his maps on the table, the smile seemed to dissipate.

Katerina tried to sit up and see what he was looking at, but the table was high enough that she was unable to. Short of looking like an overly curious child, she gave up peering. Whatever it was, it had him concerned.

"Thank you." She said quietly, taking another bite of the apple. Elijah's eyes rose and landed on her again, his gaze never wavering once from her face. He nodded in response, then stood from the table. "I think I'll be retiring now, my Lady, if you'd care to join."

Katerina blinked. "I beg your pardon?" That was much bolder than she'd been expecting, even from a Viking. It was also much more civilized than she'd been expecting of a Viking, but it wasn't as though she was going to tell him that. The stories were true. The Vikings were just brutes who thought only of killing and whoring. Katerina huffed and placed the apple back into its bowl, the taste suddenly soured. She'd been hoping that it wouldn't come to this.

"Unless you're perfectly content with sleeping on the floor."

Katerina met his eyes with an icy glare. "And what if I am?"

Elijah's smile did not return, but she could see the amusement in his eyes. "You cannot be serious. It is a cold night, and there are beds to be warmed."

Flushing with indignation, she rose from the chair abruptly, her muscles tense. The table stood between them, but Katerina could see how easily that obstruction could be dealt with, if he made a mind to. The question was whether he would. "You can't keep me here."

He seemed to nod in consideration, eyes glancing towards the doorway of the tent. "I think the 'can I' is rather undebatable, the real question is 'will I'."

Crossing her arms over her chest like a petulant child, she raised a brow in questioning. "And will you?" He didn't need to answer, she knew the answer perfectly well. Even if he turned his back on her escaping, the camp was enormous and she would need to navigate around hundreds of tents to find her way out. Not to mention, she wouldn't want to risk being pulled into a more… unseemly tent. Katerina's hands rested on her arms, feeling the cold begin to creep into her bones. The ground was an uninviting place to be sure, but Katerina could not give the Viking the satisfaction. Food was one thing she couldn't afford to refuse, but she'd be damned if she was so quick to warm the war general's bed.

"Yes, Lady Katerina, I believe I will. I don't suppose you have any argument?" He was teasing her. Mocking her. Somehow remaining completely stoic, yet she could feel the air begin to lighten between them. She, however, was determined in her bitterness. At least he'd proven more stable than his brother, though that still gave her little comfort. She still had no notion of what happened to her parents, nor even of her fate in the camp. For now, it seemed that she would serve as little else than a plaything. She bristled at the thought, mindlessly pulling her brown curls to one shoulder and running her fingers through them. Raising her eyes, she saw that he was looking at her still. Was he actually waiting for an answer?

"No… my Lord." She returned, the words heavy in her mouth and heart. What more could she really say, at the risk of him kicking her out and leaving her to fend for herself in the icy nighttime? She wouldn't make it past the first soldier's tent without being dragged inside. His features seemed to soften than when he was studying the maps, and Katerina once again noticed how chiseled his features were. His eyes likewise seemed softer than they were before, namely when his brother had been nearby, but they still held a degree of sophistication and wisdom. He carried himself gracefully, and she knew that grace was the mark of a warrior.

Elijah ducked into the adjacent tent space, and Katerina was left in the main chambers. She stood there awkwardly, neither wanting to be alone nor wanting to be left in a small antechamber alone with the man. He'd treated her fairly enough so far, but that meant virtually nothing. The night was beginning to fall in earnest, and she felt her eyes drooping again. Despite herself, she started walking towards the antechamber where she could hear him preparing for bed.

Gingerly pulling aside one of the tent flaps, she saw that the bedroom was smaller than the main chamber, but it was made far cozier as a result. Several lit candles stood around, illuminating the antechamber in a warm glow. The bed stood directly in front of her, magnificent as ever for an army camp, and there was a wash basin to her right where the man now stood. He splashed his face with water, his soft brown locks growing darker as they became damp. Katerina held her breath for a moment, wondering if she'd accidentally acquiesced to his request by following him.

Turning away from her, he tugged his tunic off, revealing the wide expanse of his back and the true broadness of his shoulders. Corded muscles grew taut under smooth, tanned skin as he reached for another tunic to sleep in, and covered himself with it. Katerina felt as though she needed a wash herself, but with no gown to change into, it didn't make much sense to get clean only to put a soiled gown back on. She would have to see if they could find one for her, though she doubted the Vikings cared very much at all about what she wore, unless it was nothing.

"I hope my brother didn't threaten you too much. He has a way of overdoing it." Elijah spoke, breaking her reverie as he opened a chest filled with furs. He pulled a large black one out and laid it upon the bed, covering the white fur that already laid there. Katerina's body yearned to bury herself in those furs, but she dared not move.

"I sense it is of a second nature to him. He certainly made himself comfortable doing it." She replied, beginning to step into the room. Elijah nodded in response, then pulled the furs back and began to lay down between them. "It depends on how many of them are empty."

The pause in the conversation caused her to look over at him. His eyes darkened. "None of them."

Katerina said nothing in response, but took several steps towards the bed, her fingers brushing over the furs. Elijah hadn't exactly been straightforward with what he wanted of her, but the way his eyes seemed to travel from the neckline of her bodice down to where her hips swelled beneath the skirts, she could probably have guessed. However, her pride was far too great to risk.

Setting her jaw, she fisted the bustle of her skirts and began to kneel down onto the ground, until she lay completely flat. Luckily, the floor was not the same hard packed earth as it was in the main chamber; Elijah had apparently seen to a sort of wooden flooring being place in his bedchambers. Katerina didn't know why, nor did she care. Exhaustion fell upon her like a blow to her entire body, and she quickly began slipping away into sleep. She could hear Elijah asking her just what she thought she was doing, but she was too tired to respond. The girl was simply eternally grateful that _someone_ had the foresight to lay down the makings of a shifty, but solid floor.

"Katerina, will you get in the bed?"

She could hear his questions, even that annoying twinge of amusement in his smirk that he never seemed to let show, but she couldn't seem to find the energy to open her mouth, let alone string together any coherent sentences.

Elijah sighed. The woman was already dauntless in her ways, and he'd only known her for the better part of an evening. Katerina barely felt herself being lifted as Elijah carefully collected her into his arms, her cheek resting against his chest. He placed her down onto the soft bed, her slim figure immediately being swallowed up by the furs.

As Elijah crossed back to his side of the bed, Katerina likewise did not feel him slipping back into bed beside her, nor the warmth of his presence spreading through her numb body. Not even the weight of his arm as it wrapped around her waist and tugged her closer.


	5. Chapter 5

The keep seemed to creak with every step she took. Soft satin slippers met with smooth wood, her forearms outstretched as she walked, as though she needed the extra balance. As it was, though she felt her feet making contact with the floor beneath her, her head felt as though it were in the clouds, threatening to float away. The only thing of substance she could pinpoint was how her heart was racing beneath her ribs, thundering within her petite frame. Still, she walked forward, eyes squinting in the darkly lit corridor to make out what awaited her at the end. The keep, usually so full of light, was oppressed with blackness in every corner, any sort of life choked out from its walls. She kept her eyes focused in front of her, but it was difficult. Some sort of invisible weight was pressing down on her body, a force that made it difficult to move. Blinking through the night, the object of her searching appeared in front of her. The door was tall and intimidating as always, the robust wood glinting in front of her. Hundreds of intricately carved designs covered the walls surrounding it, with the woodwork becoming more finely detailed as it reached the perimeter of the door. She'd stared at those markings for hours as a child, wondering how someone was able to create something so beautiful and yet so small. This was the door to her parents' bedroom.

Yet now when she reached forward to trace the markings, the beauty of it was tarnished and she could feel death emanating from beyond the walls. A force similar to the one pressing down upon her chest and hips, she could feel it coming from behind the door, pushing her away, and yet... drawing her inside. The air around her was eerily still, with the only indication of life coming from her racing heart and the sound of her blood rushing in her ears. Pressing her palm flat against the door, her fingertips felt as though they'd met with ice, but she pushed as hard as she could. As it was, the door creaked open slowly despite the amount of force, and a single ray of moonlight shined through. She looked down at the light, the ethereal whiteness fading into the blackened hallway where she stood. Something caught her eye on the floor, a glint of something as it slowly moved into the light.

Blood. A sea of it. Made black by the night time, she saw the deep crimson reflects when the moonlight struck the moving puddle, oozing underneath the door. Once again pushing the door in front of her, she felt her eyes beginning to swim as the wood beneath her fingers acquiesced, and slowly swung to the side.

A man stood in front of her, though his identity was not immediately known to her. He stood facing her, causing the moonlight to illuminate his back, but flood his face with darkness. As she looked down at the blood puddle again, lazily spreading across the floor, fear bloomed in her heart.

She felt herself wanting to berate the man, but her words came out involuntarily even and calm. "My family, Niklaus. Where are they?"

The figure stepped forward, and in the deepness, she could just make out the face. Teeth bared in a sinister smile, blood dripped from his teeth and chin, and there was a mania in his eyes that chilled Katerina to her bones. Closer up, she could see that his neck had been torn apart, and the blood rushing down his body, staining his clothes, was his. He stood directly in the pool of it, the inky black liquid draining from his body. She could see the outline of his skin where it had been torn, the veins and arteries slashed without remorse. The pressure on her body deepened, and she felt her mouth open in a scream, but no sound rang out. The man standing in front of her was her father, his smile red and full of fangs.

* * *

Katerina jolted forward in the night, a scream dying in her throat. Her curls were matted to her back and face, and her gown suddenly felt oppressive around her body. She felt herself sweating through the silk, her breathing coming out ragged as her fingers worked to loosen the ties at her lower back. Tugging the strings, she felt the bodice give, and the crisp night air filled her lungs freely. Panic still lingered in her chest as she sat forward, placing her head in her hands and concentrated on calming down. She'd had thoughts of such things before, even dreamed them, but none of the scenarios had ever rattled her like that. What had it meant, to see her own father becoming such a monstrous creature? Did it speak to his fate? And where was her mother?

Pressing her fingers into her eyes, she willed herself to take deep breaths and regain a sense of rationality. It was only a dream. She'd witnessed horrible acts of cruelty just a day ago, been kidnapped, and was being held against her wishes with no notion of her family or her future. Of course her dreams would act out in this way.

She'd never particularly been a faith-driven woman, and that held true even now. No sort of God-like entity could have sanctioned what she'd seen, even what she'd dreamed. She was in the presence of pure evil.

It was finally when her heart began to slow that she realized where she was. The bed felt soft beneath her body, the furs cradling her aching bones. A heavy weight lay against her hip, and as she turned her head, she realized that Elijah Mikaelson lay next to her, his arm having been jolted from her waist when she'd woken in her frenzy.

Hate bubbled up inside of her, her mind now looking for someone to blame for the atrocities she'd been forced to endure, and they all centered on him. Still sleeping soundly despite her rustling, she narrowed her eyes and pushed his arm away from her, immediately feeling the loss of warmth where his touch had been. How had she even ended up in the bed with him? She'd been adamant about the floor – it was the only way to ensure that he would not… Katerina paused. She regarded the sleeping man beside her and felt the hate dissipate for a brief moment. Anger replaced it. How dare he!

She'd made it perfectly clear that she was _not_ going to be a plaything for _any_ Viking, and yet he'd defied her wishes. _Still_ , her survivor instincts reasoned, glancing down at the floor, _you could have caught a chill and died right there._ _That almost would have been better_ , another, bitter side of her added. Though her anger lingered, she had to admit that she couldn't any signs of him taking advantage of her in the night. Her corset ties were tied just as she'd left them, and the skirt of her gown was tightly wrapped around her legs due to the nightmare. She could feel no soreness, and had no remembrance of his touch upon her, save for his arm against her waist. _He'll pay for that later._

Katerina's eyes dropped to her hands in front of her, sighing to herself. How had she gotten into this mess?

The war general beside her still lay sleeping, unaware of Katerina's inward battle, his breathing even and slow, just as hers had now become. _For a warrior, he certainly slept soundly_ , she thought. _What if there was a mutiny, or an assassination?_

It was then that she realized she needed to go back to sleep. Her imagination was beginning to run wild again, and if there was any hope of her avoiding another nightmare, she would have to concentrate on grounding herself. That did leave the matter of where she would be sleeping. Eyeing the ground, she bit her lip in thought. She didn't really want to sleep on the ground, especially not in the thick of the night when the sun's warmth was hours away, and the tent gave little protection against drafts. But how could she live with herself if she willingly slept beside him again?

Katerina then decided that she had no choice. Pushing herself from the warmth of the furs, she stood up on uncertain feet, her gown falling to her ankles. She still felt appallingly dirty within the silk dress, but there was little she could do about it until morning. The thought of even asking Elijah for a change of clothes was a humiliating one. Tiptoeing across the room to where the chest full of furs lay, she opened the lid and pulled out another one, not wanting to risk waking Elijah by pulling the ones from the bed.

She lay the fur down onto the ground and settled herself down upon it, the size of it large enough that she could fit her entire body upon it and still be able to fold it over to cover herself. She pulled her pillow down from the bed and pressed her cheek against it, feeling her hip digging into the hard floor. Her bones resisted the change in comfort, but Katerina remained determined. He'd gotten the best of her when she was too exhausted to fight back, but not this time. The girl was going to take any chance she had to fight back. Her hand pushed through her skirts until her fingers clasped the hilt of the blade hidden between them, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that she could have easily run herself through while she was thrashing during the night. She pulled the blade out and balanced it between careful fingers, her eyes tracing over the metal handle. It was carved impeccably, and must've cost a fortune to have it done. She'd gotten it as a gift, another reminder of a past long gone. Again, she wondered how she'd ended up in the bedchambers of a warmonger, brother to a psychotic man, and left to fend for herself. The thought was disconcerting but she felt herself slipping away to sleep, the blade pressed flat to her stomach underneath two hands.

* * *

"Beautiful." Katerina's eyes blinked away the last remnants of sleep and she rolled onto her back on her makeshift floor bed to look up. Elijah stood over her, already dressed and washed, holding her blade in his hands. Her hand shot to her abdomen instinctively where it had been, but she could see the blade in front of her, and cursed under her breath for being so careless.

"This is impressive craftsmanship." Elijah noted, turning the blade over. His eyes glanced down at her, a brow subtly raised. "Where did you get it?"

Katerina scoffed. "You think I stole it? It was a gift, and I want it back." She stood from the fur on the ground, smoothing out her dress too ensure that it hadn't gotten tucked up somewhere, and stuck her hand out insistently. "Please."

Elijah regarded her with surprise. "I don't think giving you a weapon would be very prudent, though I doubt this could cut little more effectively than a cat's claws." He still twirled the blade in his hands, one fingertip pressed against the butt of the hilt, and the other pressed against the tip of the knife. "But I have given you reason enough to wield it."

Katerina set her jaw, stretching out her opened hand again. "Don't give me another one." Elijah held her gaze for a moment, then held the blade out to her, hilt first. "I won't."

Katerina snatched the blade back, feeling some level of comfort return as she tucked it back within her skirts, the weight familiar on one side of her body. She looked at Elijah again, the hatred she felt last night still lingering inside of her, and saw him look down at the floor where her bed was. "I trust you slept well." His tone had a hint of irony in it, and she bristled, remembering her nightmare. "Fine. Thank you."

Elijah nodded once, then turned to leave the antechamber. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll be back by nightfall."

"Wait, you're _leaving_ me here? I can't stay here, I have to get back to my parents, my keep!"

Elijah shook his head. "Your lands are overrun with battle. A neighboring keep decided to take up arms and fight us off. It is certainly no place for you to be, not with a blade like that. You'll return when we get what we came for, Katerina, and not a moment sooner. You'll be safe here, but do not leave the tent." He continued walking through the main chamber, picking up one of the maps he'd been fretting over the night before. Picking up a goblet, he took a swig of the ale and set it down, then reached for his sword and strapped it to his side.

She couldn't believe the irony in his words, but she was too shaken to make any comments about it; she only thought of her escape. "The moonstone." She stated. "If you get the moonstone, I will get to go home?"

Elijah inclined his head in somewhat of a nod, a non-committal gesture that did not make her feel any better. "If we get it."

Katerina let out a dry laugh, sticking out her hand to balance herself against the back of a chair under the weight of her own realizations. "You'll never find it. I'll be here forever."

Elijah let out a mirthless chuckle himself as he turned towards the exit. "A fate worse than death." She glared at him, picking up her skirts as she stepped forward. "I wish to bathe." This gave him pause, turning to raise a brow at her. "- in privacy." She added, crossing her arms over her chest. "And a new gown."

He nodded once more, Katerina noting the way his eyes landed on her as she voiced her demands. They seemed to travel the length of her without ever really breaking away from her gaze. She swallowed. "Very well. I'll see to it." And with that, he was gone.

Katerina's gaze fell from the entrance way, her thumb rubbing against her middle finger again absentmindedly. She looked around the tent, her eyes landing on nothing but maps and documents. Evidently, Elijah was planning something far larger than the assault on her keep, or even the resulting battle from the neighboring keeps. The Ivanovs seemed to be standing their ground against the possibility of ending up like the Petrovs, but Katerina knew that there was some loyalty in their raising arms against the Vikings. She could only hope that word had reached them that she was still alive, but something about the unconcerned way with which Elijah spoke of the matter told her that the battle wouldn't last very long at all. These people were farmers and merchants, not warriors.

She idly approached the desk that Elijah had been sitting at yesterday, her fingers brushing over the brown parchments. Avoiding the spots were the ink was still fresh, she yet again found the map that detailed her lands and picked it up. The 'X' was still there, bold as ever, and as she squinted, she could make out the symbols printed beneath it.

She didn't know what it could have meant, but she had a feeling it was directly connected to the rumours of the moonstone. Finding some spare parchment, she tore a small piece off and dipped the stylus in the ink. She copied down the symbols as best she could, then folded it up and tucked it into her bodice.

"Lady Katerina?"

Katerina turned around, the unfamiliar voice a surprise to her. Not because it had caught her off guard, but because it was a woman's voice. Furrowing her brow, she regarded the pretty blonde girl that stood in front of her. Her hair was bright like pure sunshine, falling in soft ringlets to her shoulders. Her face was heart shaped, her skin smooth and somehow glowing despite the army camp environment. She stood smiling pleasantly at her. Katerina knew that she must've looked a mess, with her tangled curls and exhaustion clear on her face.

"Yes?"

"My name is Caroline. Elijah has asked me to help you bathe and change." She lifted her arm up, a gown folded over it. Katerina stepped away from the table of maps, nodding. She certainly hadn't expected to see a woman here, but hadn't she heard the name Caroline before? Niklaus. Pausing, she looked at her strangely for a moment. Caroline didn't seem like she was hurt, nor did she seem particularly unhappy about being there. Was she sent to spy on her?

"Yes, thank you."

Caroline seemed pleased, and she nodded towards the exit. "Well, come along then."

Katerina began walking forward, her step bordering on excitable at the thought of being freshly washed. However… she slowed her steps and looked at Caroline's expectant face. Elijah had told her to stay put, and though she was loathe to follow his orders, she had to concede that walking around the camp couldn't have been safe for her.

"There's a lake near the east end of the camp… What is it?" Caroline asked. Katerina must've seemed like a wild animal as she blinked for a moment, then nodded and joined alongside Caroline to leave the tent. Elijah himself had sanctioned this, apparently he trusted Caroline. Whether or not she trusted him was another matter entirely.

Katerina's eyes narrowed as the full force of the bright sunshine hit her, lifting her hand to shield the rays from her eyes. She'd only been inside the tent for the better part of one day, yet it felt like an eternity. "This way." Caroline trotted off without a second thought, moving quickly between the tents. Katerina hurried her pace and walked alongside. She thought she had at least known the path from Niklaus's tent to Elijah's, having been escorted by Niklaus himself, but she couldn't have been more mistaken. All the similar looking tents of beige and brown were interchangeable in her eyes, and there had to have been hundreds of them. Caroline seemed to know where she was going, weaving in between tents without a second thought. How long had she been here? Was she a prisoner like Katerina was? She glanced at Caroline's gown, one made of fine linen and dyed a soft pink color. It was better suited to life in an army camp, but it was also clear that Caroline was someone of importance judging by the fine embroidery and well-sewn detail in the bodice. It was clearly in one's good interest to be a plaything to the Mikaelsons.

"I'm glad to have another female presence here." Caroline admitted, her smile still lingering as she brushed her hand over the spare gown. The two followed the serpentine dirt paths through the camp, the warm of the sun touching Katerina's back and hands. As grateful as she was to be outside, she couldn't gloss over the fact that she was in an enemy camp, and there were Vikings everywhere. They passed groups of these huge, brutish men drinking ale, fighting or… _Well._ Katerina averted her eyes from a particular group, surprised to see that women were, in fact, not as sparse in the camp as she'd expected. Despite herself, she had a small reserve of relief that she'd ended up in Elijah's tent as opposed to being thrown to the dogs, something that was easily within Niklaus's purview after the way she'd struck him. It was his twisted version of mercy.

"Yes, I am as well. I was expecting to have to dress down in front of a group of these men."

Caroline let out a lilting laugh. "I can't promise there won't be a few hoping to catch a glimpse, but we'll hide you well enough."

 _She seems so… accepting of this life. Was she here by choice?_ As far as Katerina knew, Niklaus had no wife, so Caroline was a mistress. However, married or not, she didn't know how to ask Caroline if her lover was a bastard to everybody, or just to a select few.

"Elijah's tent. Fancy that." Caroline added, shooting her a smile. Katerina felt guilty for assuming that Caroline had been there to spy on her; she seemed a genuine woman. Perhaps her last day had taken a larger toll on her than she'd expected.

"Yes, imagine that." She responded. "Given like a prize to a man whom I hardly know as a congratulations for attacking my lands."

Caroline nodded thoughtfully, her quick feet deftly avoiding any puddles or droppings left behind by horses. The entire camp smelled of unwashed bodies, and she wondered how many of the men had ever ventured to the lake to bathe. Niklaus and Elijah's tents were the only ones that seemed clean. _Yet another reason to be grateful,_ she thought sourly.

"Well, you're here now. I suppose there isn't much to be done now but survive."

They came upon the lake a few moments later, the body of water glistening in the morning sun. There was a soft rippling from the breeze, and just being near the green-black water made Katerina feel fresher. Turning to glance behind herself, when she was satisfied that no man had decided to follow the pair, she began to loosen her corset ties.

"I hope this will fit you. You're a bit taller and slimmer than I am." Caroline noted, holding up the gown to inspect it. Katerina offered a small smile – the first since she'd arrived. "It will fit fine. I'm just glad to be out of this soiled thing." As she pulled the corset ties loose, Caroline turned around to offer Katerina some privacy. She balled up the gown and tossed it onto the banks of the lake, glad that she'd had the foresight to leave behind her dagger. The last thing she wanted to do was make Caroline think she was going to slit her throat. "Here, I brought soap and a little lavender oil."

The girl could very well have been a Dane herself – she looked like one. But Katerina knew better than to blame her for the misfortunes of her family. She couldn't have been a part of the siege, and could very well have been here as much against her will as Katerina was. The difference was, Caroline knew how to play the game.

Wading into the water, she hissed as the cold ripples kissed her skin, goosebumps prickling all over her body. Soon, she fully submerged herself and began lathering the soap against her skin.

Once she finished, she slowly began to rise from the water, hands covering herself where she could. Caroline offered her a drying cloth and went to loosen the new gown's bodice to slip it on Katerina. As Caroline bent down to pick up the old gown, she paused. "What's this?"

Katerina's eyes landed on the strip of parchment in Caroline's hands. It must have fallen out when she'd disrobed. "Oh… Nothing. I just wanted to know what it meant."

Caroline unfurled the piece of paper and studied it for a moment. The confusion on her pale face deepened. She read the word aloud, the language still entirely foreign to Katerina's ears. Folding it in half again, she extended the parchment to Katerina. "Doppelganger. It means doppelganger."


	6. Chapter 6

Caroline was right, the gown was a few centimeters too short, and but it fit her perfectly in the bodice and shoulders. The shorter hem would be helpful trudging through the mud in the camp; she was getting tired of picking up her skirts all the time. It felt liberating, even if it was a minimal difference.

Caroline took her turn to freshen up, lifting her skirts to wash her ankles and feet. Katerina stood on the banks of the lake, clutching her green gown. The bit of parchment had been tucked back into the bodice of this new gown, a cream coloured beauty that felt much more light and breathable on the body. She'd even gotten new shoes, her last slippers having fallen apart completely. Both were on loan from Caroline, though the blonde insisted that she keep them. Katerina needed anything she could get her hands on at this point.

As Caroline lifted her skirts up, bunching them to the side, she rubbed a bit of the soap and lavender oil on her ankles. Katerina squinted in the sunlight, seeing a pale ring marking the skin just above the circular bone. As Caroline turned to regain her balance, Katerina recognized the look of healing scars, growing pink as the girl rubbed at her skin. Was Niklaus doing this to her? Katerina shook her head. She wanted to ask what the circumstances were between her and the warlord, but she couldn't quite make out the words, especially when she saw Caroline beaming as she returned to shore, wiping her feet off before slipping on her shoes again.

"Shall we eat? I'm famished!"

Katerina's stomach growled in agreeance, and she followed Caroline back up the hill and towards the camp. A sudden strong wind blew the girls' hair about their faces, and as Katerina reached up to pull the curls from her eyes, the smell of acrid smoke flooded her senses. Turning towards the breeze, she looked upon the grassy highlands to see thick, heavy clouds of smoke peering over the horizon in the distance. The battles about to rage on her lands, and Katerina could do nothing but sit and wait. They'd pillage what they could before turning to war. Turning back to Caroline, she offered little in response to her question and instead allowed for the blonde to hook her arm into hers. The two carried on in search of lunch, but Katerina's heart felt heavy.

The rest of the day passed without incidence, though Katerina had heard of a brawl going sour quickly, undoubtedly ending with a few dead. The men must have been growing restless, eager to wet their swords in the looming battle. She doubted they'd find their opponents much of a challenge, but she couldn't help but hope for the villagers' success. It could mean her survival. Surely the missing body of the lord's daughter should have raised some flags.

The primitive lifestyle these warriors seemed to enjoy was in stark contrast to what she was used to. For one, personal hygiene. Secondly, a home with sturdy walls made of brick and wood, not canvas. These men were nomads, and though she had herself yearned for adventure outside of her quaint farm life, this wasn't particularly what she had in mind.

She and Caroline ate in Elijah's tent, both preferring to be away from prying eyes and she possessing absolutely no intent of dining in Klaus's tent as Caroline often did. The meal in front of them was a plain bowl of broth, but it filled Katerina's stomach with a hearty warmth, and she felt her eyes drooping again. Elijah still hadn't returned from his duties, so the girls had the tent to themselves. The maps on the tables fluttered impatiently as a breeze blew through the tent, and Katerina dropped her spoon in her empty bowl and pushed it away. "Do all the men eat like this all the time?" She asked of Caroline, picking up her goblet of wine to take a sip.

Caroline shook her head. "No, the warlords eat the best of what we have, and the rest is for the men. We were lucky this time, these lands and farms are stocked full of-" She abruptly cut off her words, her cheeks flushing pink. "I mean…"

"It's okay. I understand."

The blonde nodded and began collecting the dishware from the table, setting it aside for a servant boy to come fetch it. "I should go. The sun's beginning to set, and Klaus likes for me to be around after his meetings. But, please do come find me should you need some company, Katerina. Elijah is an honourable man, but he isn't always a conversationalist."

Katerina turned to face Caroline as she walked around the table, collecting her shawl and throwing it over her shoulders. "An honourable man?"

Caroline nodded with a slight smile, her fingers tying a knot in the cloth and moving to smooth down the skirts of her gown. "Yes. Lord Elijah is a kind man, Katerina, so long as you aren't his enemy, and you do not cross him."

 _Too late for that,_ she snorted.

"If he were honourable, he would have released me."

Caroline sighed quietly, then took a step forward, placing her hands on the back of a chair that stood in front of her. Her eyes seemed eager, her brow furrowed as she searched for the correct words. "I know you have seen terrible things, Katerina, but… he may not be the most terrible of them all."

 _Well, if that's the standard…_

Katerina nodded once, and Caroline, seemingly satisfied, left the tent soon afterwards.

Katerina stood from her seat and glanced around the empty tent. There wasn't much to do alone, but as her eyes continued to close, she figured she may as well get some sleep before Elijah returned. Biting her lip as she walked towards the antechamber, she ducked underneath the flaps that had been tied to the sides and looked upon the enormous, fur covered bed. She may very well not be as lucky tonight, she thought dismally. Elijah hadn't touched her the night before, but even a 'kind' warrior expected something of his spoils of war. The thought was an abysmal one, but as she glanced over her shoulder, then back at the bed, she figured there was no harm in making herself comfortable while he was away. There was no sense in proving a point when there was nobody around to appreciate it, right? Satisfied with her logic, and back still aching from sleeping on the floor the night before, she slipped into the bed and buried herself beneath the covers.

There were no nightmares in the hour that she was asleep, which may have had something to do with the fact that it was still somewhat light outside; sunlight kept the dreams away. She still slept with a furrowed brow, as though even staying asleep was a daunting task. Dusk had fallen by the time she awoke, prompted by the heavy clatter of armor on the tables outside the chamber. Katerina woke with a start, her eyes still puffy from sleep, and collapsed back onto the pillow with a soft groan. She was still there, in the tent… and her captor had returned.

Elijah's footsteps grew louder as he neared the antechamber, likely wondering where the girl had gone, and she buried herself deeper beneath the covers as though she expected to be hidden from sight.

"I don't think it counts as warming my bed if I'm not in it. Unless you're just very poor at playing hide and seek." She heard him say, his voice smooth and warm even through the multitude of blankets muffling her ears.

"You're not half as amusing as you think you are." Katerina pushed herself up out of the cocoon, slightly embarrassed by the fact that she'd been caught in his bed. Tucking her curls behind her ear as she sat up, she blinked until he came into focus. He stood tall at the foot of the bed, head bowed as he undid the ties on a leather vest he wore. He seemed just as tired as she was, which boded well for her fate that night, though his clothing, face, and hands were clean. They must not have attacked yet; likely planning on stretching the siege out to starve them into complacency. Apparently such a delicate approach was not an option when it came to her fate. "This was a one-time thing."

"We wouldn't want to impugn your honour with the notion of you willingly sleeping in a bed." He said lightly.

"You're in a good mood. Did you find some children to skin?" She slipped her shoes back on and stood from the bed, immediately missing the warmth from her body.

"Was that a joke, Katerina?" At first, she assumed he was angry, but he seemed surprised. "I didn't think you were capable of anything besides hissing at me." He looked at her once she stood, his eyes falling to her new gown. "I see you met Caroline. The poor girl was probably torn to shreds."

Katerina rolled her eyes. "I was perfectly pleasant. Besides, it seems as though Niklaus beat me to it."

Elijah paused. "What are you talking about?"

She shrugged, pulling off one of the furs from the bed to wrap around herself. "She has scars on her wrists and ankles. I imagine that's only the beginning of what I couldn't see. It was him."

"I find that unlikely."

She scoffed, and walked towards the exit of the bedroom. He, however, stepped into place just before she could manage it. Looking up at him, her head tilting back to meet his eye, she suddenly became very aware of her size. Her slender shoulders and petite frame were a fraction of his build, and she was only just eye-level with his chin. The weapon still strapped to his hip was just the cherry on top. "And why is that?" She asked, her voice softer given his close proximity. She kept her gaze locked on his, but her body was tense.

"Caroline is under Niklaus's protection. I imagine not even I would be safe should that safety be compromised."

The scars seemed so recent, but could it have been possible that Niklaus wasn't the one who marked her? She made a small noise of defeat, breaking her gaze downwards.

"You're under a similar protection." Just a hairsbreadth apart, she could feel the vibrations of his low voice in her ribs. She shook her head, a mirthless laugh escaping her lips. "You can't be serious, he doesn't-"

"Not his. Mine."

Katerina paused for a moment, then managed to slip between him and the few inches of the doorway left, her arm brushing against his as she stepped out into the main chamber. "You mean your supervision, as a captive." She quipped, picking up one of the goblets standing on the table and pouring herself a healthy drink of ale. Though she didn't care for the stuff, she felt the need to forget.

Elijah finished changing his clothes in the bedchamber, then joined her in the main room, arms crossed as he watched her take a swig of the bitter drink. It burned like hell going down, but the warmth flooding her fingertips felt like heaven. "Call it what you like, but none of the men are to touch you."

Her eyes landed on him again. _Except me,_ his dark eyes seemed to say. She shook her head. The ale was already working on her, and her thoughts were turning into nonsense. She set the goblet down and sat down in the nearest chair, tugging the fur closer around her shoulders.

"You don't believe I can take care of myself?"

This seemed to amuse him, because he let out a gentle laugh. She was surprised to hear it, and was more surprised to find it a pleasant sound.

"No, I'm certain that you can. However, I doubt a letter opener will do you much good."

Katerina patted her skirts out of habit and realized that she didn't have her dagger on her person any longer. The gown wasn't outfitted to carry a concealed weapon, and she'd been forced to set it aside. She didn't even have to look up to know that he was holding it in his hands, likely having found it while he was changing. She growled underneath her breath as the metal glared in the candlelight, his eyes similarly alight with satisfaction.

"That's the second time you've pilfered it from me. I didn't think you fancied yourself a thief, Lord."

"It won't be of much help to you, laying on the pillow in the room, while you're trapped on your back somewhere."

Katerina stood from the table, the fur falling to her feet. Tired of the indignation on her abilities, she willingly walked up to the man and smiled icily. "A demonstration, then."

He contemplated it at first, but flipped the blade in his fingers, handing it to her hilt-first. "My lady."

Just as her hand wrapped around the hilt, her eyes still lingering on him, his arm shot out and twirled her around so that her back was to him. "You have your blade. Do your worst."

She felt her breath leave her lungs, both from the suddenness of the contact and being taken completely off guard. Holding her blade tightly in her fist, she struggled against the one arm that held her to his chest, oddly effectively. She swung behind her, expecting for the blade to meet flesh, but his second arm easily incapacitated her weapon's path. One arm trapped to her side by his arm, the other clasped in his wrist, she growled against underneath her breath. His movements had been inhumanly quick, and moving against his arm was much like attempting to push down a tree trunk.

"I don't think wiggling like that will help your cause much."

Katerina froze, her body suddenly becoming still. She felt him relax behind her, at which point she slammed her foot onto his, and managed to yank her arm far enough away to aim, and ram her elbow directly into his abdomen. He bent forward slightly as the air left his lungs, his grip loosened so that she was able to turn around.

She held her blade to his throat, the smooth edge pressing against his skin. His eyes searched hers, but soon fell to the column of her throat and threatened to dip lower. She pressed harder against his neck, the blade digging deep into his skin, and his eyes returned to hers, gaze darkened. Her hand remained steady, suggesting that it wasn't the first time she'd been in this position.

"Should I prove the blade's sharpness to you as well?"

"I'm inclined to believe you."

Katerina smirked, but was cautious in retracting the dagger. She felt the lack of warmth where his arm once were, her wrist nearly burning from the contact, but she kept her gaze steely. "What sort of a general gets bested by a young girl?"

He took a menacing step forward, and despite herself, Katerina flinched. She stayed put in her position, but her entire body tensed. He smiled darkly. "Should we try another demonstration?"

She glared at him, but set the dagger aside, silently acceding to the situation. He didn't back down, though, and took another step towards her. She was ready to snap at him to keep his distance, but it likely wouldn't have done much good. "Vikings." She spat. "You have no sense of honour."

His gaze felt heavy on her, and she felt herself flushing. Raising his brows in amusement, he stalked towards her predatorily.

"Do you realize… I could have had you by now." He spoke softly, the words and the underlying threat hanging thickly between them. Katerina swallowed. "Any which way I wanted. In this tent, surrounded by my army camped just outside… You'd be at my complete mercy." Elijah had a commanding presence unlike anybody she'd ever known. It was easy to see why he was in charge of the men, and why they would willingly follow him into battle. Even as he spoke so ungentlemanly, she couldn't help but stand in a trance. "Supple skin, beautiful body, pink lips. Mine for the taking."

The dagger lay a foot away from her, but she didn't feel the need to reach for it. As it was, she'd lose the element of surprise and he was close enough to disable the attack without issue. "So why didn't you?" She was surprised at her own questions, her hands reaching for the table behind her to steady herself. He just kept walking forward, looking as pleased as a cat who'd cornered the mouse.

"Honour."

With that, Elijah stepped away. Katerina felt herself take a deep breath, then she stepped forward and snatched the goblet she'd been drinking out of before. The alcohol pooled in her belly, a promise of the numbness she was searching for.

"You should get some sleep. He wants to see you tomorrow."

Katerina frowned, looking down at the metal goblet, her fingers delicately tracing the rim. "Niklaus? What for?"

Elijah sighed quietly, bracing his hands against another table. He stared at the yellowed parchment in front of him, the edges curling up from being rolled and the wetness of the ink. Katerina touched the neckline of her bodice absentmindedly, remembering the scrap of paper that Caroline had translated for her. Doppelganger. What did such a phenomenon have to do with Niklaus? It was an omen of death, which was appropriate, though she couldn't fathom what her part was to play in the game.

"Niklaus likes to be dramatic in his negotiations." Elijah replied simply. "He wants to send a message, using whatever it takes."

Katerina felt a chill snake up her spine, the air cooled significantly since he'd stepped away. The nightmares would return that night, she could feel it. Toying with the goblet in her hands, she mirrored his sigh. "I don't suppose you know of my parents, Elijah."

He was quiet for a moment before replying, though it wouldn't make sense to her until much later. "No. That's what I was afraid of."


End file.
